


Stranger Twins

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case File, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Based on the season 11 spoiler of a Doppelganger episode.





	1. Chapter 1

He looked in the mirror, and not for the first time wondered who the hell he was. His blue striped tie, his white shirt, sleeves rolled up, his tailored pants, slim cut for today’s taste. He wore the trappings of someone confident in their ability, someone of standing in the community, a government official with a badge and weapon. But Fox Mulder felt like a fraud, an imposter. Was he really an experienced FBI agent or was he an obsessive with a questionable mental history? Was he a trusted confidant to his sceptical partner or was he just a drain on her rationalism? Was he a father who did the right thing for his family or was he simply a coward who ran away? Was there a way to separate the two warring halves? Become the better version?  
The man in the mirror stared back. He was tight-lipped, holding his secrets in tight. If he looked hard enough, if he willed it, maybe he could separate the two selves and walk with confidence in the skin of the real Fox Mulder.  
He rolled over and sighed. His head throbbed and his eyes stung. He hadn’t felt right since he and Scully had interrogated the suspect in the fraud case they’d been investigating. He was convinced it was some kind of telepathic or telekinetic ability that Visser used, but Scully just sighed and said, using air quotes and a strange inflection voodoo mind control, Mulder, really?  
He was convinced Visser had defrauded dozens of wealthy clients out of millions of dollars despite reports from investment fund and bank managers that cited it was the clients themselves who had withdrawn the money. But the clients were always miles away; sometimes overseas at the time. Video surveillance appeared to back up the claims that it was, indeed, the clients but when Mulder pointed out that the film was fogged and blurry, Scully rolled her eyes and said, psychic photography, Mulder, really? And in that same tone.  
But Visser got rich. Clients got poor. There was something unnatural about it. He just knew. Scully scienced and rationalised and evidenced and generally just Scullied. And the case fell apart when a smart-mouthed lawyer got involved. Scully pulled Mulder out of the interrogation room with a sharp Mulder, can I have a word, which was usually the precursor to a Mulder, you’re crazy.  
Now, he felt groggy and perturbed more than his usual default setting. Scully snored softly next to him. He lifted the covers and went to get out when she shot up, clutching the duvet up to her chest.  
“Mulder?”  
His heart raced and he felt clammy but it was Scully who seemed to be locked into a night terror. Her eyes wide, her breathing shallow, her skin prickled with goosebumps.  
“Scully, it’s okay. You’re in bed. You’re safe.”  
She licked her lips and shifted back a little. “What are you doing?”  
He reached out to touch her but she jumped out of bed, knocking into the bedside cabinet. “Where am I? What am I doing here?” Her hands were twined together, arms pressed to her chest.  
“Scully, it’s me. You’re at home. You’re safe.”  
She started to get dressed. “Mulder, this is not my home. This isn’t even your home. Why are we here? I don’t remember anything after Visser’s lawyer got nasty. What happened? Why were we in bed together? Did we…?”  
He walked around the bed and sat on her side. “No, we didn’t…but Scully, we’ve lived here…on and off…for 15 years. This is our house, our bedroom.”  
She tucked her hair behind ears, then untucked it, pulling out strands and holding them in front of her. “Why is my hair so long?” She looked at her clothes. “And whose pants are these?” She flipped on the bedside lamp and stared at Mulder, eyes raking over his body, naked but for boxers. He knew he was blushing. It was always kind of hot when she did that. “And why are you so….old?”  
He launched himself to the bathroom, pawing at this face in the mirror. Sure, he had some greys, his stubble was silvered and the worry lines had deepened over the years. Scully joined him and pushed in front of him. She gasped and let out a strangled mewling cry.  
“What the fuck?”  
He turned around and put his hands on her shoulders. “What was the last case we worked on? The one before Visser?”  
“The Colonel Budahas case. Aurora spy planes. Mulder, what did they do to you at that air base?”  
He shook his head. “It’s not what they did to me, Scully. I’m fine. It’s what Visser did to you in that interrogation room. I think he’s got some kind of ability to transform himself into other people. Like Eddie Van Blundht.”  
“Who?”  
“Never mind. Scully, the Colonel Budahas case was 20 years ago.”  
She pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the bedroom. He pulled on his tracks and a tee. A beat later she was back in. “Where do I keep my handbag? I need to go home.”  
“Scully, this is your home.” He showed her his phone. “Look. This is a smart phone. Look, it’s 2017.”  
She flopped onto the bed, his phone in her hands as she pressed icons and scrolled through the photo gallery. When she looked back up at him, she had tears in her eyes. “Mulder, what’s happening to me?”  
He sat next to her and took the phone from her. “What if Visser does have that ability? That he’s somehow managed to transform you into a younger version of yourself. There are precedents in different cultures around the world. In Egyptian mythology the Ka was a spirit double with the same thoughts and feelings. In Norse mythology the Vardoger is a ghostly double that performs the person’s actions. In Irish culture, a Fetch is an apparition of a living person. In Germany, the doppelganger is a double of a person, a twin stranger.”  
She wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “So what you’re saying is that I’m not me.”  
He took her hand and rubbed the skin there. “No, Scully. You’re still you.” How could she ever not be Scully? “You’re a different version of you.”  
“A younger version?” She looked at her hand, the skin. “Well, on the inside anyway.”  
He chuckled. “There could be some advantages to that, Scully.”  
She took her hand away and stood up. “So, we…”  
Chewing his lip, he nodded slowly. “Yes, Scully. We…”  
“That is so unprofessional.” Her hand thumped on the bed.  
He laughed out loud this time. “And that is so you, Scully. We’ve seen this kind of thing before. Body transformations and the like. But this time, I don’t understand why Visser chose you. It doesn’t make sense.”  
“None of this makes sense, Mulder.”  
Grinning, he rubbed his chin. “That’s the very nature of the X Files.”  
“No, I mean, me and you. Together.” She shook her head and tears began to roll again. “How did that happen?”  
That was indeed the question, he thought. He wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer. Or answers. He wasn’t even sure if he could explain it. Well, not in a succinct summary, anyway. He turned her face to his, thumb under her chin. She blinked away the tears. “We fell in love, Scully. That is essentially how it happened.”  
Her hair was tangled down her back and she was pink-cheeked and upset. But she still let him pull her in for a hug. “What are we going to do, Mulder?”  
“We’re going to find Visser.”


	2. Chapter 2

Skinner leant on his elbows and switched his gaze from Mulder to Scully before taking off his glasses and sighing.  
“So, this Visser character has somehow convinced Agent Scully that she’s still in 1993? And now you want to track him to…do what? See if he still has dial-up? Weigh and measure his cell phone? Check if he’s upgraded to CDs? Ask him if he prefers Back Street Boys or NSync.”  
Mulder turned to Scully, expecting to see her eye-roll at Skinner’s attempt at a dad joke, but her lips twitched. Damn. Maybe she really did only reserve that kind of impatient despair for him. Perhaps if this thing turned out to be irreversible he could retrain her reactions towards him and their future years could run a little smoother. But then again, he kind of liked the way she treated him. Expected it. Baited it. He turned back to Skinner.  
“I think you’ll find they came a few years later. Boyz II Men were big in 93.”  
Scully rolled her eyes. Skinner rubbed the bridge of his nose. Mulder uncrossed his legs and offered a conciliatory smile. “And he hasn’t convinced Scully she’s in 1993. She really does believe she is. This is Scully from 1993.” He held out his hands towards her, like a showman offering up his guest star. Gung-ho, a little naïve, sceptical on acid, pre-abduction, pre-chip, pre-cancer, pre-Emily, pre-trial, pre-on-the-run, pre-break up. Pre-break up. Shit.  
“And why would he do this?” Skinner asked, staring at Scully.  
“I’m not sure it was something he planned. Maybe he has no control over it.”  
“So how did he defraud those people? By accident? By taking them to a David Copperfield show?” Skinner stood up and walked around the desk, perching on the end. “Mulder, I cannot authorise any stakeout on this man. There’s no judge in the district who would believe that this is Agent Dana Scully from 1993 – no offence, Agent - and that Arnold Visser caused this…this…”  
“Doppelganger effect,” Mulder supplied. “And maybe his ability to control these powers is affected by stress. I mean, he was being interrogated. He’s had years getting away with his deception, so maybe being under pressure was the difference this time. Perhaps he was trying to control his lawyer? Maybe he felt he could affect the outcome of the charges laid against him if he could somehow control the lawyer?”  
“Mulder,” Scully said, touching his hand. “You’re reaching.”  
He chuckled. “Scully, even after two cases together you must have realised that’s what I do.”  
Skinner stood up. “Agent Scully, do you need some time? Are you in need of some counselling? We have a more diverse range of employee assistance these days.”  
She shook her head. “No, Sir. I’m fine. I’m sure…we’ll work it out.”  
A brief smile flirted across Skinner’s face. “You two always do. Just don’t let me find out that you’ve worked it out by following or harassing innocent citizens.”  
Mulder shot up out of his chair. “You won’t find out, Sir. I guarantee it.”  
Mulder parked the car and turned off the engine. Scully sat next to him, elbow on window, fingers on mouth.  
“Do you have a plan?” she asked.  
Her eyes bore into him. This was the intense and disbelieving Scully that had worked him so hard back in the day. There was something irresistible about the way she scrutinised everything back then. Now. She had yet to allow him a little leeway for his crazy theories. She just automatically believed there was a scientific explanation for everything. She had yet to see enough of the arcane and the phenomenally horrific to reluctantly agree that the elasticity of science only stretched so wide.  
“When he leaves, we’ll go in. See if we can find out any more about him.”  
“Mulder, that’s breaking and entering. We have no warrant. If we’re caught…You heard AD Skinner.”  
He raised his eyebrows. “What AD Skinner doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”  
Then it hit him. She had no memory of working with Skinner. She would certainly know of him, but he didn’t figure in their working lives until a little later in that first year.  
She rapped her fingers against the glass. “Mulder, we need to act by the book. If not, this Visser character may never be brought to justice.”  
His grin was wide. “Scully, I can tell you that nothing good ever came from acting by the book. That is a lesson you learned pretty early on. Under my direction, of course.”  
Her hair was backlit by the headlights of a passing car, obscuring her face for a moment. He imagined her back then, all fiery indignation, but he knew right away that under that bubbling disbelief lay a woman with the same deep desire as him to push against the mundane and ordinary, to find the spectacular and miraculous; she just came at it through science and faith where his path had been through mystery and tragedy.  
“How long have we worked for AD Skinner?”  
“More than 20 years. On and off.”  
She frowned. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. On and off. What does that mean?”  
How to explain the past 23 years? Was it possible to make it sound even remotely plausible? “We had a break from the FBI. And now we’re back.”  
“A break?”  
“It’s a long story, Scully, and I’m not sure you’re ready for it yet.”  
She laughed. “I’m not sure I’m ready for anything yet, Mulder. This stakeout, this body,” she ran her hands down her legs, “you…us. I’m struggling to see a way forward.”  
He twisted towards her, watching the movement in her face. Despite her poker-face capacity, Scully’s eyes had always betrayed her deepest emotions. He saw sadness, fear, anger. “Scully, we will work it out. We will get you back to now. Intact. But we have to get into that apartment. Work out why Visser did this to you.”  
She reached out and touched his hand. “I get the feeling that you’re leaving out a lot of important information, Mulder. And I know you’re trying to protect me in some way. But I don’t think we can make any headway on this case, if you don’t tell me everything. And there’s this…this burning sensation in my stomach, in my veins. I can’t explain it, but it feels like secrets need to be revealed, like the tiny details of my life are rushing through my body, itching and scratching at my skin, trying to get out. It’s hot. I need to let them out.” She sniffed back tears and squeezed his fingers. “I know there are big things too. That there are aspect of my past that are vital to my present. I feel it. It’s like something my sister would experience. Maybe I should just call her, ask Missy for help. She’d love this.”  
He squeezed her hand and shuddered out a sigh. This was the barrier he hoped he wouldn’t have to butt against.  
“Mulder?” Her anxious whisper hung between them. “Mulder?”  
The door to Visser’s apartment flung open and he lurched through, out on to the sidewalk and headed towards the park at the end of the block. Mulder opened his door and followed, listening to Scully’s footfalls behind him, reluctant at first, then determined to catch him up.


	3. Chapter 3

They tailed Visser to the park where he sloped through the playground equipment and beyond to the stand of trees. He was fleet and Mulder felt his years. Scully huffed next to him and he couldn’t tell if it was old age too, or if she was pissed that her body wouldn’t do what she thought it should be able to.  
“Why are we following him, Mulder? I thought we were going to look around his apartment?” She sucked in a huge breath and pulled her hair back out of her face.  
“I just wanted to see where he was headed, make sure he’s out of the way. He doesn’t seem to have a car nearby, so maybe we’ve got some time up our sleeves.”  
He went to turn back and put his hand on her lower back to guide her away. But as they spun round, Visser was standing in front of them.  
“What the hell?” Scully managed to spit out while grappling for her gun.  
Mulder stepped forward just as Visser lunged and they tangled together, falling to the ground. He could hear Scully yelling, “Freeze, FBI,” but he couldn’t stop Visser from rolling away from him. And he knew he wasn’t going to freeze. But when Mulder looked up Visser was being gripped around the collar by Walter S Skinner.  
He paced, pausing every fifth step to stare them down, before starting again. Mulder opened his mouth every time Skinner stopped but there was nothing suitable to say so he just slumped back in his chair.  
Scully pulled open the curtain from around Visser’s bed and let a stethoscope slide off her neck. She hung it on a hook on the wall and stood between Mulder and Skinner.  
Without warning, Skinner launched himself at her, pushing her to the ground and wrapping his meaty hands around her throat. Mulder’s mouth fell open as he processed what was happening and he sprung from his seat issuing a deep-throated roar. His hands connected with Skinner’s thick shoulders and he dug his fingers into the muscle mass. He couldn’t shift him. Skinner was yelling, barking out indecipherable words. Scully’s legs were kicking and scratching across the floor, her shoes flipped off and her muffled gasps spurred him on. He grabbed Skinner again and managed to lift him high enough to dislodge his hands and Scully slithered away, rolling onto all fours and catching her breath. Two orderlies lunged in to help, pulling Skinner away and shoving him face-first to the floor, arms pinned behind his back.  
He was raging. “They’re on all sides, they’re coming.”  
“Are you okay, Scully?” he lifted her up and she felt heavy but warm in his arms. To hear her coughing and heaving for breath made his eyes sting with tears. “Just…take it easy.” He shifted her to a chair, helping her to settle as the orderlies still struggled with the AD.  
“He just snapped.” Scully said, her voice ragged. She held her throat and looked up at Mulder. “Why?”  
He squeezed her shoulder and let it linger for a beat. “I don’t know. But he needs help. I’ll find a doctor.”  
Stepping around Skinner, one of the orderlies lost his grip on Skinner and skidded back into Mulder. Mulder side-stepped him just as the AD launched the other orderly off him. In one swift motion he was up and had his arms at Mulder’s throat in a second, pushing him back so he couldn’t get any traction. He was vaguely aware of Scully trying to call out. He was vaguely aware of the orderlies pulling Skinner back. But he was hyper focused on the look in Skinner’s eyes as he barked out, “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”  
He drove Scully home and she spent the entire journey with her head against the window. The skin on her neck was marred with red bruising. He’d been luckier, with only a few scratches at his throat. He made coffee.  
“This is Visser,” he said, sitting next to her on the couch. She shifted away slightly and he blinked away his disappointment.  
“But how does he do it?” She blew the steam away and waited for an answer he knew he couldn’t give yet.  
“I think Skinner was reliving his Vietnam experience. He was possessed by the soul of his younger self, trapped in the jungle when his entire company fell.”  
“Possessed?” she said. “Is that what you think I am?”  
He shrugged. “Maybe possessed isn’t the right word, but somehow Visser has been able to access your memories, cut them off somehow.”  
“But that still doesn’t explain how he defrauded those people – two of them weren’t even in the country when they withdrew their savings, Mulder. That’s not accessing memories. There appeared to be more than one of them. Did the police look into the possibility of twins? The way Visser surprised us in the park – he was in two places at once, so…”  
“Scully,” he said, cutting her off. “This man is not a twin. Well, not in the widely understood definition of that term. What if Visser has the ability to double people, himself even, but somehow, with you and Skinner, it didn’t fully work? It’s like his capacity has been diminished somehow and you’ve both been reduced to a younger version of yourselves.”  
“Reduced?”  
He reached out and gingerly placed a hand on her thigh. She looked at it, biting her lip, but he didn’t move it away. “I’m sorry, Scully. I don’t mean to make you feel that you are in any way less of a person, but for me, you are not the whole Scully that I came to love. Your life experience, these past years together, they’ve been a journey and they shaped you into this…this…”  
She covered his hand in his and frowned lightly. ”This what?”  
“This beautiful, heartbroken, tough, vulnerable, resilient, dynamic woman who somehow loves me. And I guess I want that version of you back. You make me feel whole.”  
The way she looked at him, the blue of her eyes, the straightness of her shoulders, the set of her jaw, the way she contained herself before speaking, he saw a glimmer of the old Scully and he held his breath waiting for her to come back to him. He longed to fall into her and to make love to her. To lie in the dark and whisper about the dreams they have for their son; to wonder about the length of his hair, the colour of his eyes, whether he loved the stars or football or Tolkein or driving.  
“What are we going to do, Mulder?”  
“We have to talk to Visser. Find out more about him.”  
“And Skinner?”  
“I don’t know. He’ll be out of action for a while, I’d say.”  
He slept on the couch. He was too old for it now and 3am seemed like the pits of misery instead of the hour where his brain found its rhythm. He envied Scully and her youthful mind. Those long days and nights on cases, spouting theories and counter-arguments, poring over files or slides or photos. He heard her soft footfalls creaking down the steps.  
“You couldn’t sleep either?” he said, pushing himself up and running a hand through his hair.  
She laughed lightly. “You look a lot like you do…did…back then.”  
His stubble caught under his nails as he rubbed at the fatigue. “I’ll take that as a good thing, Scully.”  
She sat down and the sofa cushions bounced. “Good, because I meant it. I probably shouldn’t tell you this but when I first met you, when you turned in your chair wearing those round glasses, with the reflections of the slides of the dead teenagers you were looking at, I felt an instant attraction. I remember being quite startled by you. I was expecting someone…”  
“Spookier?”  
She shook her head and her hair fell around her shoulders. “Less good-looking. It was unsettling, seeing you there, all grinning arrogance and smarmy intellect.”  
Her giggle made his cock twitch. He shifted on the seat. “Smarmy intellect. Wow, Scully, that’s a huge compliment. Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good.”  
“And that sort of deadpan delivery, Mulder. That kept me interested too.”  
“Did it now?” he said, leaning forward. “And there was I thinking you hated me and my sarcasm. You never laughed at any of my jokes, Scully.”  
She laughed now. “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. I was desperately trying to keep my head above water and be ‘one of the boys’. God,” she said, pulling her hair back off her face, “this all seems like yesterday.”  
He sighed. “Even for me, it doesn’t feel like 20-odd years have passed.”  
“And you still haven’t told me anything about those years, Mulder.” She looked down at her lap, wringing her hands. “But I’ve had some dreams – maybe they’re more than that – dreams about my parents, my sister…”  
“Scully…”  
“It’s okay, Mulder. I think I know. I just…it’s all too much at the moment. We need to see Visser. I think I want my life back.”  
“I know I want your life back,” he said quietly.  
“How did we really…end up together, Mulder?”  
The lamp cast a shadow on the ceiling, edges fading out. He gathered his thoughts before turning to look at her. “It was inevitable, Scully. From the moment you walked into that basement office, our lives were being slotted together. It was just a matter of time.”  
A single tear tracked down her face and she lifted herself forward, tracing a hand down his cheek and across his jaw. “I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, Mulder.” She pressed her lips to his and he breathed her in, recalling all her shapes and sounds over the years. The essence of her remained and he deepened the kiss, pulling her onto him as he lay back on the couch. He shouldn’t do this. She was a young woman. He was an old man. But if he squeezed his eyes shut, if he just went with the flow, he…  
The door flew open. Scully jumped off him, her hair wild around her. “Oh my god. Mulder?”  
He stood up, scrabbling for his gun as the figure at the door stepped through. When he moved into the light Mulder saw who it was. He was staring at himself.


	4. Chapter 4

The Mulder at the door looked just as bewildered as he did. It figured, he thought, that having a second version of himself wouldn’t necessarily mean the other one would have life all worked out. He stepped forward, gun outstretched. The other Mulder stood in the frame, mouth working but no sound coming out.  
“What’s he saying?” Scully said, standing at his shoulder. “He’s trying to speak. It’s like he’s…a hologram. There’s something strange about…”  
“His colouring, his presence. I see it too, Scully. It’s me but it’s like a bad photocopy.” Mulder reached out his hand and it swiped right through the other version. He swung round to face Scully but she was already moving past him, holding out her own hand to touch the hologram, only to see it evaporate in front of them. In its place stood Arnold Visser.  
Mulder raised his gun again. “Hands up!”  
“What the hell?” Scully cried, slamming her hands to her sides and stepping back beside Mulder.  
Visser complied. “I can explain. Please.”  
Visser sat on the couch and Scully stood behind the round table, watching. Mulder wished she were right by his side. But he had to keep remembering that she was missing twenty years of interview experience.  
“What did you do to Scully?”  
“And to Walter Skinner,” she added.  
Mulder was surprised to hear that voice. That ‘don’t fuck with me’ interrogation voice.  
“My wife died. In childbirth. I thought I would go mad with grief. Perhaps I did go mad. I started seeing things. Seeing my wife everywhere. One minute I was in the supermarket, trying not to buy for my family that no longer existed, the next I was staring at my wife as she put baby formula into the trolley.” He drew in a long, ragged breath and looked up at Mulder. His eyes were red and puffy. “It sounds like a miracle, doesn’t it? Seeing the one person you love, even though they died. But it was cruel, cutting. And I couldn’t seem to switch if off.”  
Scully sighed. “There’s a form of schizophrenia called syndrome of selective doubles, whereby patients describe seeing someone they know inhabit the body of someone else.”  
“Capgras Delusion?” Mulder offered. “I’ve heard of it. There have been reported cases where time warps or bends to accommodate the delusion further.”  
Visser shook his head. “I’m not delusional. This is real.”  
“Tell me about it,” Mulder muttered. “How long did it take you to work out you could control it?”  
If guilt were a colour, it would be purple. Visser’s face was bruised with it. “Not…very. My neighbour, she had just lost her husband and he was quite wealthy. I…she…it was not something I consciously thought of. But then there were two of her. I could switch it on and off. I also found that by doing that, I didn’t see my wife as often. It felt safer somehow, to see my neighbour, not my beautiful wife. Anyway, I started to talk to her and we…I…”  
“Convinced the doppelganger to sign over her savings, her will, her insurances?” Scully said.  
Visser dragged his fingers down his face. “I felt terrible at first. But then I realised that I’d made her happy. That old lady had someone to talk to, to share her last days.”  
“What about the original old lady? The one you defrauded?” Mulder said. “How did that version feel about your social work?”  
Shrugging, Visser remained silent for a beat. “I’ve been unwell. I haven’t had the control I once had. I…my power…seems to be reducing.”  
“So, how do I get back to being me? Where is the other me?” Scully said.  
There was a crack of doubt in her voice. As though she still wasn’t quite convinced this was happening. Mulder’s stomach bubbled. This was still Scully, no matter how many years there were between them.  
“Do you really want that?” Visser said.  
Mulder switched his attention to the man on the couch. “What do you mean?”  
But Scully placed her hand on his arm. “I really want it, Mulder. I can’t be half a version of me.”  
He looked down at her. Her eyes fixed, her lips pursed, her shoulders straight, her jaw set. So contained, yet so fierce. He couldn’t argue with that.  
Visser stood up. “We need to go to the hospital.”  
Scully grabbed her bag and coat. “You’ll help AD Skinner?”  
Swallowing, Mulder followed, a kernel of fear gnawing at his insides.  
The room was at the far end of the passageway. The green walls seemed to close in on him. Nausea welled and bloomed. When the door opened, all he could think about was the impossible choice. Visser let him pass through and the sickly light cast a low glow over the patient lying still under the blue sheet.  
“Scully,” he whispered.  
Visser walked to her bedside. “This is where I found you. Slumped at her bedside. You visited her every day. You seemed so devoted. You…reminded me of me when my wife died. I saw every painful memory in your face and I thought…I wanted to help. I’d done so much wrong by then that I thought maybe you could be my redemption.”  
“So you thought you’d make a doppelganger of her but it didn’t quite work. She’s missing twenty years of her life.” He looked over his shoulder to check on Scully. But she wasn’t there. He swung back round to Visser. “Where is she? Where’s Scully?”  
The seat cover wheezed out as Visser sank into the chair. “You can’t meet your own doppelganger. It doesn’t work that way.”  
Mulder felt the air rush out of him. “She’s gone?”  
Visser nodded. “I’m sorry.”  
“She tried to help everyone. She found the cure to the virus. She saved humanity. But she couldn’t save herself.” Mulder slumped against the wall. “Why didn’t I remember this until now? Why?” Anger drove his voice up a notch and he slammed his open palm against the window frame.  
Visser stood up. “I think if you look back, you’ll find you do. I loved my wife so much, Mr Mulder. I didn’t want to let her go. But things have to end.” He walked to the door and laid a hand on Mulder’s arm.  
“You’re dying?” Mulder asked. “You said you were unwell. You’ve been receiving treatment here?”  
The man nodded sadly. “I’ll finally get to meet Christine again.”  
Mulder slept in the chair. The familiarity of it a comfort. Scully was still Scully. Still the hero. Still contained. Still fierce. Still in his heart, however old, however young. Wishing someone back to life was just that – a wish. He was no dark wizard. He was just an old man.  
The door opened and a nurse walked in, smiling quietly. Behind her, Reyes stood, a cautious look on her face. He shut the door to the room and waited.  
“Agent Mulder. I’ve got some news for you.”  
He looked back through the small window, to where Scully lay in her perpetual sleep. “What can you possibly tell me that will make any difference?”  
“We’ve found your son. We’ve found William.”


End file.
